Reborn Financial Overlord

Once upon a time there was a mountain, and there was a temple on the mountain. In the temple there was an old monk and a young monk. One day, the old monk said to the young monk: "There is not much food in the temple. You can go down the mountain and turn some rice back." The little monk nodded, picked up the bag and went down the mountain, and never came back. The old monk waited alone in the temple for a year. Finally he couldn't hold it any longer, so he put a lock on the temple door and went down the mountain to find the young monk. The old monk climbed over the mountain and came to a vast desert stretching in front of him. He chanted "Amitabha" and did not dare to go forward. At this time, a caravan came by. Knowing that the old monk was going to cross the desert, he generously allowed him to join the caravan and took him across the desert. The old monk was extremely grateful and thanked the owner of the caravan repeatedly. The owner of the caravan waved his hand to him and said, "You're welcome. Bandits are rampant in the desert. I don't know if we can cross safely. I heard that some thieves still believe in Buddhism and will take you to try their luck." The old monk followed the caravan into the desert. The food brought by the caravan was all dried meat and strong liquor. The old monk kept his posture upright, abstaining from alcohol or eating any meat. He only ate the water and dry food he brought with him. Everyone in the caravan said that he was a virtuous monk. When they were halfway through the eight hundred miles of yellow sand, the caravan was captured by thieves, and everyone in the caravan lay dead on the spot. When the old monk opened his eyes, he saw the shining tip of the knife. He shouted. The man holding the knife was stunned and called: "Master." The old monk is not dead. He is very lucky. The young monk he is looking for is among the thieves. He has become the leader and married a wife. When the old monk saw the young monk drinking and killing people, he couldn't help but burst into tears and said, "You are a Buddhist, how can you be so vicious? How can you indulge in greed like this?" The young monk replied: "Buddha is neither cruel nor evil, so why do you want the world to respect him and fear him? Buddha has no greed and desire, so why does he want to accept incense from the world?" The old monk was speechless. The old monk was speechless and stopped blaming him harshly. The young monk continued: "Master, in the past year, I have been away from the mountain and have not returned. I have experienced all kinds of things and tribulations. When I first came down from the mountain, I didn't know the depth of the desert, so I entered it alone. I collapsed from dehydration in less than two days. The person who rescued me was a woman. I didn't know at the time that she was the daughter of a thief. Later I saw her holding a sharp knife, killing people and stealing goods, and I was shocked. I tried my best to persuade her not to do evil things, but she said, these eight hundred miles of yellow sand cannot feed so many people. Some people want to survive, and some people have to die. Would you rather be the one who survives, or the one who dies? It's just that he never kills anyone. I watched them kill group after group of caravans, and I was attacked by groups of thieves. I just enjoy dry food and water with peace of mind, and do not eat dried meat or strong wine, thinking that I am maintaining my integrity. But one day she said to me: 'Do you think that just drinking water and eating only solid food makes you superior to us? Did you know that clean water is snatched from the mouths of dying people, and dry food is taken from the packages of struggling merchants? ' At that moment I was blushing. Later, I ate meat, drank wine, and killed people with a knife. Later, I even broke the precept and married her. After the death of the old leader, I was elected as the leader by the thieves, and killing and stealing became commonplace. " The old monk sighed after hearing this and advised the young monk to go back with him. The young monk shook his head and said, "I can't go back, Master. Besides, the land behind the temple can only keep us two from starving to death. If I don't go back, you can eat alone. If I go back, we can only starve together." The old monk said that if people who follow Buddhism have less materialistic desires, there will be no big problem. The young monk shook his head and said, "Desire is a very scary thing. I heard that there is a famous dish in the southeast. The fragrance floats ten miles away, making everyone salivate after hearing it. The Buddha couldn't bear the temptation and wanted to jump over the wall, so it is called 'Buddha Jumps Over the Wall'. You see, Buddha also broke the precepts sometimes, not to mention me?" The old monk said: "That is just a dish name after all. How does it mean that Buddha will really jump out of the wall? I will wait until the day you are willing to return to the mountain." So, the old monk followed the young monk all the time. He watched the young monk leading the thieves to attack the caravan. He stood in the distance and said nothing, only waiting for everyone to die and then went over to bury the bodies. At first the thieves laughed at him, but he treated them calmly and never refuted. Later, the thieves began to respect him and called him master like a young monk. They helped him bury his corpse and learned the scriptures about salvation. No matter how powerful the thieves are, they cannot roam the desert forever. After they robbed and killed a rich caravan, they were targeted by others, and several groups of thieves joined forces to kill them. They panicked and fled all the way. When they finally escaped into a grotto, only four people were left, including the young monk and the old monk. Just when they had no way out and were desperate, the grotto collapsed, blocking out the pursuers. They let out a long sigh, but soon discovered that they would face an even greater desperate situation: in this cave that they could not get out of, there was only enough food for one person to eat for a few days. After knowing this, the old monk meditated facing the broken Buddha statue in the grotto without saying a word. The remaining three people knew that he was going to fast. The three people looked at the little dry food left, swallowed, and divided the dry food into three portions, one for each person, and no portion for the old monk. After the first day, the three hungry people devoured half of the food they had. No one touched the remaining half. They stared at each other's food like hungry wolves. The next day, they started fighting. The old monk sat in front of the Buddha, with muddy tears rolling out of the corners of his eyes. On the third day, the other two people died, and only the young monk was left. His eyes were red, clenched his fists, and walked step by step towards the old monk in front of the Buddha, and stretched out his hand... The old monk was horrified, and without thinking, he stabbed out with the dagger hidden in his body for self-defense. The little monk opened his eyes wide and slowly opened his outstretched hand - the last piece of dry food lay on his palm. Two days later, a passing caravan rescued the old monk from the collapsed grotto. By then he was already dying. The old monk followed the caravan out of the desert and returned to the temple. A few days later, he hanged himself from a beam in the temple. Before putting his neck into the noose, he kept thinking about what the little monk said before he died. He said: "Master, Buddha... Buddha jumped over the wall..."

From the beginning, I liked it very much, but when I saw the Italian Mafia woman, I was really disgusted. I felt that the previous character was not like this! It took me five minutes to quickly lose dozens of chapters. It really poisoned me. I was really disappointed. Goodbye! ! ! ! !

I like this kind of book, all men understand it

The story is good, and the protagonist is suitable for most people, but I don't like it very much, especially because there are too many women. I still prefer a single female protagonist.

Good. It suits my taste very well

Come on, come on, come on, keep writing until the financial crisis in the United States in March 2020, and then a new storm will hit in 2021

I still like you very much, like the wind that has traveled eight hundred miles, regardless of the date of return, like the cycle of the sun and the moon, regardless of the morning, I still like you very much, like the clouds drifting for ninety thousand miles, never resting, I still like you very much, like the stars smashing towards the earth. , I still like you very much until death, like the sunshine filling the world, gentle and comfortable, like the wind blowing in my heart, I still like you very much, like rain and wine falling in the tropics and the polar regions, thousands of miles away, I still like you very much, like The whale sinks at the bottom of the sea and breathes softly. I still like you very much, like the old city gate that I have waited for many years. I still like you very much. Like the whale that lacks oxygen in the deep sea of 6,400 meters, I still like you very much. I still like you very much, like a subject. Until the restoration of the dynasty is far away, I still like you very much. The willows are moving, the cicadas are chirping, and the sunset is ebbing. I can't help myself. I still like you very much. Like clouds drifting for ninety thousand miles, without rest, I still like you very much. Like the sun rising and setting, no matter day or night, I still like you. I like you very much, like the stars running through the dark night for hundreds of millions of years, without complaining, I still like you very much, like the spring rain falling for eight hundred miles, pattering like spring grass dyeing the green ridge, there is no doubt that I still like you, like a shrew scolding the street. , No matter what, I still like you very much, like the rain falling all night long on green emerald green flowers, Juanjuan does not hesitate, I still like you very much, like the rain falling in the plum rain season, endless, I still like you very much, like the smoke curling up a little, Tangli frying snow and falling rain, I still like you very much You are like a flying crow attached to a fish in the sea. It is difficult to decide whether to stay or go. I don't know why I still like you very much. Like a noisy secret. Even if I say a thousand words, I still like you very much. Like the begonia in the garden that falls and blooms again and again, I still like you very much. Like the sun and the moon taking turns. Alternately, regardless of day and night, I still like you very much, like layers of clouds condensed into phrases, bit by bit, I still like you very much, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, blurred by neon, I still like you very much, like the osmanthus leaves falling in the wind, rolling into mud, I still like you very much. I like you, like raindrops falling on the green moss and red mud, the softness disperses, I still like you very much, like the starlight falling into the eyes, a glance thousands of miles away, I still like you very much, like the last stroke of the hairpin head phoenix, I still like you very much when I am lovesick, like the spring night red I am dreaming without a breath, and I am afraid that I still like you very much. Like the bumps and convexities that catch the torrential rain. I still like you very much when it enters the channel. Like the clouds and smoke that turn into silken rain, all the tenderness and violence are given to you. I still like you very much, like a monk who has been wandering for too long. Despite all the difficulties, I still like you very much. Like the green leaves in spring and the sunshine in summer. Even if they are not as good as you, I still like you very much. Like thousands of piles of snow rolled up by the cliff, I still like you very much as the years pass by. Like the sky full of shooting stars falling to the ground and the wanton fireworks, I still like you very much. Like the waves hugging the reef again and again, I still like you very much with all my strength, like the fish returning to its homeland along the ocean current, I still like you very much when we meet by chance, like the wind whispering in my ears, my heart beats so much, I still like you very much, like Xiaxiaya ya A child learning to speak, I still like you very much even if my words don't convey my meaning. Like the chirping of a zither in the rain. Why don't I go back and I still like you very much. Like the uncontrollable babble in a dream. It's all about you. I still like you very much. It's like dressing up and waiting for a ten-year holiday. , I don't know, so I still like you very much, like longing for you like a river passing away, I still like you very much without stopping, like the cliff flattening and the whole forest regenerated, I still like you very much when you are in the shade of the tree, like yellow flowers piling up on the ground, I am an old friend thousands of miles away I still like you very much, like a lump in my throat, like sweet rice. I still like you very much, like the sea changes into the mulberry field, and the stars change. I still like you very much, like the yellowed bridge in the old story, half-deaf and half-dumb, I have lost my voice. I still like you very much, like Stars and waves are playing in the dark night for hundreds of millions of years. I still like you very much without complaining, just like the old opera excerpts in the old city. I still like you very much with gentle words, just like the overlord bids farewell to Yu Ji. I still like you very much if the situation has to be forced. Like the lonely star falling on the moon, I can't bear to abandon you. I still like you very much, like a quiet pear blossom, drifting away in the wind. I still like you very much, like Hongdou dimly, lovesickly. I still like you very much, like a spring swallow shears the rain, regardless of the wet clothes. I still like you very much, like the sand rising in the desert, no one asks me about it, like the rain falling on the lake, the heart-stopping friendship, the silent silence of Liao, I still like you very much, like the wine hidden in the winding alleys, the streets, I still like you very much, like the sound of music in the heart, the palace and the business angle. I still like you very much, just like the ancient green lantern Buddha in Shaolin Temple, I don't want to cross myself. I still like you very much, like a deer hiding in the deep forest standing alone, timid and looking forward to the end. I still like you very much, as obsessed as drinking poison to quench my thirst. No medicine can cure it. I still like you very much, like rain falling 70,000 meters from the sky, not afraid of turning into mud. I still like you very much, like the sunshine all over the city and the spring breeze ten miles away. I still like you very much, like a mulberry tree moving across the sea or a bridge planting in the north, out of season. I still like you very much, like a soldier riding alone, with enemies in all directions. I still like you very much. Du Ruo is old and defeated by Cha Mi. I still like you very much, just like the dead grass burns out and the wind rises again last night. I still like you very much, like a hermit drinking in the mist of the mountains and getting drunk with the afterglow at night, and my mood is as clean as a ray. I still like you very much, like a worm shaking a tree without overestimating its own abilities. I still like you very much, like a dream demon falling into a boundless dream, sleeping deeply and unable to wake up. I still like you very much, like sand in my eyes, tears like rain. I still like you very much, just like year after year, the weeds are meandering all over the mountains. I still like you very much, like a roc that rides on the wind for ninety thousand miles, and cannot rest on a tree. I still like you very much, just like grinding and dyeing plain clothes, enjoying the fragrance. I still like you very much, just like Jiuqing Shenglan, the heart is still in love, the west city sings and sings, the brocade lingers and the phoenix breathes. I still like you very much, like a silkworm willing to reel silk, regardless of life or death. I still like you very much, like the spring breeze ten miles away, not as good as you. I still like you very much, even if we never meet again in this life.

A rare good book, but it reaches its peak too quickly

This is the sluttiest book I have ever read. The male protagonist develops his body to the extreme and sells himself to his girlfriend for 10,000 yuan.

I have been reading the book for so long, and I think the book is interesting, but I don't like the protagonist. This is the third book. The first two are fantasy and the other is a rebirth novel.